


My fault

by rosemary22



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 09:30:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1423369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosemary22/pseuds/rosemary22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco's obsessed over a lot of things but his obsession over Jean might not be his fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My fault

**Author's Note:**

> Pointless JeanMarco written while I was bored... Hope you like it.

Sometimes I think I'm too obsessed with things. Like, I'm a pretty normal 19 year old boy apart from the fan... boyling? Yeah, yeah, I'm a freaking fangirl. For everything, literally. I'm a grown up man, at college who has a tumblr dedicated to my fandoms. So, yeah, I don't know... Maybe I am a bit too obsessed over stuff I like, but it's not always my fault.

You see, my most recent addiction wasn't on me. It was his fault. His cocky grin, his anime way of saying 'eh?', the thing he did to his hair, his hair, the way he would press his body against mine, the way he would hold both my wrists above my head when he pressed me against a wall or a door. It was all on him, it wasn't my fault.

And there we were, at my own room, just the both of us. I was already half naked, handcuffed - and why the fuck had I agreed to use those anyways? -, hands behind my back. He was nibbling at my neck, his hands holding my erection, still covered by my underwear, and squeezing it gently. Fuck, I was moaning way too loud, but, you see, I couldn't hold it back the way he teased me... It wasn't my fault.

"We've only just begun, Bodt. You're so fucking hard already." he laughed at me and slipped his hand underneath my black boxer when I tried to protest. "Yeah, do it again. Moan my name for me again." I did it, I kept on doing it so he could know how much I was enjoying everything. "What about me making you cum right now? Inside your own boxer, with just my hand and nothing else..." his voice hoarse as he whispered very close to my ear, I shivered. We were standing up, he was trying to hold me and restrain me from falling down, but the more he jerked me off the weaker my legs would get. He had to hold me tighter, support the weight of my body because I was too weak for that, but it wasn't my fault.

So I came. And I screamed his name at the same time. He started laughing, making me want to hide my face, flustered, but I had my hands tied up together so I couldn't. I feel on the floor when he let go of me and it took a while until I could stare at him, standing up, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes filled with lust. He was smiling, that smile he held whenever he felt victorious - as if he was fucking David, killing Golias with that rock. I could feel my face burn red, literally feel it. But, fuck, it wasn't my fault.

"I'm glad you had your hands cuffed. I love to see your face while you cum for me, just for me." I looked away, fucking Jesus how I wanted hide myself underground never to be found again. "Was it good?" he grabbed the keys from his pocket and freed my hands, I pushed him away, he almost fell on the floor. "Hey!" he scolded me playfully, turning his pervert and even slightly perverse smile into a lovely one. Fuck, I couldn't handle that bastard, but it wasn't my fault.

"Yeah..." I answered, he hugged me sweetly. No, fuck you, Jean Kirschtein. God why couldn't he just fuck me and leave? But no, he had to be lovely and caring and treat me so well. "Jean, let go of me, please..." I asked, my voice so low, almost inaudible. But he heard. I know he did, because of that look into his eyes. You see, the problem was that I had started loving that guy, but he didn't feel the same. As far as I knew I was just his little toy. And as a good kid he would take care of his toy, hold it close to him and protect it so no one else would have it. I loved him and it was _definitely_ not my fault.

"What's wrong, baby?" I shook my head. "No. Talk to me, come one. Tell me what's wrong." 'you care too much but you care too little', I thought but remained silent. 'Marco, if you don't speak I can't fix it."

"You can't fix it." I cut him being as harsh as I could. His lips formed a thin line at his face, soon Jean was no longer holding me. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling a bit and curling it between his fingers. _That_ was the thing. Fuck. "Jean..." I called, he stared at me, a sad glow in his eyes. Ok, _that_ had been my fault. "Don't give me that look, please."

"I'm worried about you and you won't talk to me." he pointed out. "If you don't tell me what's wrong I won't tell you what I came here to." oh, that's right, he came over saying he wanted to talk. I started remembering how did we end up that way. Jean had got into the room, flirting with me as always - because that boy just can't spend a day without being flirty -, so he showed me the handcuffs and I might or might not have sort of, accidentally, told him we should try that on. Ok, maybe, just maybe, _that_ had been my fault. "Marco... Please."

Fuck! What was I supposed to say? 'I can't handle this anymore because I can't stop thinking about you. About your bare chest, every inch of your body, of your skin. About the way you kiss me on the lips and then kiss your way to my neck, biting and nibbling and licking it and then doing the same to the rest of my body. About the way you rub our erections together. Because I can't stop thinking about your naked body and about running my hands through it and feeling the whole extension of you. About the way your mouth and your hands feel around my dick. About the taste of your tongue and the taste of your cum, going bitter down my throat after I swallow it all - and, oh, Jean, you know I always do. Because I can't stop thinking about kissing you in public, making you blush. About running my hands up and down your thighs under any table just so I can make you hard in public. Because I can't stop thinking about you and you fucking me and you holding me and all the things I wanna do to you and all the things I want you to do to me and it fucking hurts."? Because, yeah, that was exactly what I said. Because I'm a stupid child who can't hold his own tongue. Nice one, Marco, congrats, you little shit.

"Marco..." that's all he said. I was ready for him to leave the room, I was ready for a punch in the face, I was ready for rejection, but not for what he did. I felt Jean's lips crash against mine and we started kissing. At first he was being rough, our lips painfully pressed against each others, Jean was needy, I could feel it. And that was ok because so was I. We kissed until none of us had enough oxygen inside our lungs, until both our lips were aching. "Be mine." he said when he had caught his breath again. "Be my boyfriend. Be only mine." and I lost all the air again, and all the words, and the ability to can... All I was able to do was open my mouth and stare at him confused. Was he messing with me? "If you say 'no' I'll make you orgasm until you change your mind." he smirked, threatening me playfully, but I still couldn't react, he had caught me off guard. "Ok, you're starting to scare me." he said after a while, caressing my face.

"Does it mean you'll stop ignoring me in public?" that was all I could come up with as an answer. Jesus, I was the ace of social skills, wasn't I? He smiled brightly.

"It means the next time Jaeger looks at you I'll kill him." I smile back, he was just as weird as I was. "I fucking love you, Marco, there, I said it. Fuck. I've been holding that up ever since I heard you saying it to me while you were drunk and half asleep." I remembered that day and I cried out a bit for not having a single memory of saying those words to him. "Be mine, be with me. 'Cause I'm the same mess as you are. I mean, I can't stop thinking about you either. About everything we do, about everything I want us to do, Marco, I..." he grabbed my hands. "I'm obsessed with you and it's completely your fault."

My fault... I couldn't help but smile at that statement. Yeah, maybe it was, but at that time I couldn't care less. Because we were both to blame and from that moment on we were together to share the guilt.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if there are too many mistakes, english is not my first language so it's kinda hard to write in english but a/w. Hope you guys liked it.


End file.
